Fay
by Bazylia de Grean
Summary: Master Fay, the most powerful Jedi ever, seen through the eyes of Yoda, Dooku, Qui-Gon, Obi-Wan, Anakin Skywalker and one more Jedi, and how meeting her influenced their lives.
1. Legend

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters; they're all from SW universe and belong to their respective creators.

My ideas are who was the Shaman of the Whills, the name Llyria and using amber in Jedi burial rituals.

The fanfic goes from times of Yoda's youth up to Obi-Wan, so I put it in the category Jedi Apprentice.. However, the narrator is from the New Jedi Order Era.

* * *

**Fay**

--

_Soft is stronger than hard,_

_Water stronger than rock,_

_Love stronger than violence._

H. Hesse

--

_Simplicity is at the heart of all that is great or noble._

G. Keller

* * *

**_Legend_**

--

They say she was a legend. Even Jedi need a legend from time to time, a legend that helps them go on. She was a legend that kept going on and on, and on. So do they say.

They say that each time someone helps you, someone whose face you cannot remember, someone who maybe even was not there, it is her. They say that every time when you feel there is no hope any more, and yet you find some at the bottom of your heart, it is her. They say that whenever you help make peace, it is her. So they say.

They say she was a legend wearing form and name. They even say she was the Force impersonated. Sometimes they only say she was one of us. The most powerful of us all. They say many different things, but some things they say are the same. And in them – it is her.

They all say she had never used a lightsaber, that she even did not carry a one. And they all say she was fair. And in each variation of the legend they do call her the same name: Fay the Fair. Although they all say her name was Fay, just Fay. No surname, no title. Not even 'Master Fay'. Only plain 'Fay'.

They say she was a legend. They are wrong. She was real.

* * *

--

Author's note:

--

For Luth and Tenar (w nadziei, że to opowiadanie zachęci je do Gwiezdnych Wojen ;))

--

This fanfic was inspired by an article on Wookiepedia, concerning Master Fay. I was just looking for something else and looked at the article featured on the main page, and something captured my attention so I read it all; maybe it was the way she was portrayed on the picture. (Yeah, you know, it must've been the Force ;)) And I must say learning the most powerful Jedi of all times was a woman was very inspiring.

This piece is based wholly on info from Wookiepedia, except for the concept of Fay being the Shaman of the Whills, which is my idea, and some others which are non-cannon or simply they're not mentioned in the cannon.


	2. Little

_**Little**_

--

A tiny green silhouette stepped out of an air-taxi and, hesitantly, but with determination, began the long journey up the main stairs, leading to the Jedi Temple. Making steady progress, the figure reached the gate. Then stopped, as if afraid of something.

Two padawans walked out of the Temple, almost bumping into the tiny stranger. They froze, perplexed.

'Is _he_ a Jedi?', said the Twi'Lek male to his human friend.

'Don't ask me, I can hardly see him at all', answered the second padawan, and the two burst into laughter.

'That is probably because your head so high you keep', retorted the stranger, but his answer only gained him another laughter. Padawans still were young, and children can be cruel.

'Any troubles?', asked a quiet, calm female voice behind them.

They spun round towards the gate, finding themselves suddenly facing a young, tall, fair woman.

"She looks very young", Yoda thought. "She must be younger than me." After all, he was almost a Jedi Knight. All he had to do was to stand the Trials.

Yet there was something about the strange Jedi that made her presence striking, if serene. Her presence was a one of a Jedi Master.

'Nothing', said Yoda aloud, deciding telling about the two padawans behavior wouldn't make much sense.

Both padawans were silent. On their faces were looks of shame, which they tried very hardly to hide.

'Master Fay?', echoed a rich baritone, as another figure appeared in the gate. Two padawans recognized Grandmaster Soresu, the Head of the Jedi Council.

'I'd like to talk with you later, Grandmaster', said the woman calmly.

Both padawans shot uncertain glances at her. She hadn't seen it, had she?

'Any time', Grandmaster answered kindly. He treated the woman with more respect than an average Knight ever got. That was startling, Yoda thought.

'And I think our young friends here would like very much to talk with this Knight', said the woman, indicating Yoda with a little move of her hand.

'But all right it is, Master', said Yoda. It really wasn't necessary. Yes, they'd been unkind, but there was no reason, really…

'All right, you say', the woman eyed him thoughtfully. 'Sometimes all right may not be the easiest way, and sometimes it is not all right at all, little Knight.'

The way she said 'little Knight' didn't annoy or anger Yoda. He knew he wasn't tall, but didn't like others to remind him of it. But she did use the world kind of gracefully, simply indicating that she was more experienced and older. Older? Yoda thought fast, but he didn't understand.

The woman exchanged glances with Soresu, and then Grandmaster dismissed both padawans with a wave of his hand. Yoda wasn't sure whether to stay or go.

'Who are you, young friend?', asked Grandmaster mildly.

'Yoda my name is, Master. To stand the Trials, I came.' Yoda's face looked calm, but he was getting nervous. What if they wouldn't let him stand the Trials at all?

'He has been taught by Master Gormo', said the woman, again with the same gentle voice.

Again Masters exchanged glances. And thoughts, Yoda realized.

'You will stand the Trials as fast as possible. My friend here has an interesting premonition considering your person', Grandmaster smiled slightly at the woman.

Yoda wanted to ask, to know. But he was a Jedi. A Jedi can wait. He remained silent.

'A great Jedi you will be one day, little Knight. One of the greatest.'

Yoda did not know what to say.

The woman turned, evidently going to leave the Temple.

'Good luck with your Trials, little Knight.'

'I will try to do my best', said Yoda eagerly, looking at the fair Master.

'Don't try. Do it.' She offered a little smile and turned, heading towards the landing platform.

'I will', whispered Yoda to himself. He knew he would. Because somewhere deep inside him there was a feeling he would meet the fair Jedi again, and he wanted to say he didn't try, but did it.

Grandmaster Soresu looked kindly at the little green Knight-to-be.

'Come, Yoda. Welcome to your new home.'


	3. Name

_Name_

--

Young Yan was training. Attack, counter. His Master waving his tiny green hand at him. _Again begin_. Opening stance. Attack, dodge, attack, jump, push... Oh. But he did not even change the pace a little bit. He pretended not to see.

Yoda knew better.

'Watching us, he is', said the little Master to a tall hooded figure, standing beside him. The newcomer had entered the room only seconds ago.

'You taught him well', spoke the figure with a bright voice of a young woman. A strand of fair hair slipped from beneath the hood.

'Still teaching him, I am', corrected Yoda, watching his padawan. Wondering. 'The Force has there sent you?'

'No. Rather gave me a day off. I'm on my way back to Llyria right now.' She watched the boy... no, young man, training. Swiftness of his movements, confidence of hand, lightness of each step. 'His name will be well-known among the Jedi one day.'

Yoda felt the expression on her face had changed. But he could not decipher into what.

'A prophecy, this was?', asked the little Master, suddenly feeling a shade of worry.

She shook her head, another fair strand falling from the hide of the Jedi hood.

'No. Stating a future fact.'

Which was moreless the same, Yoda concluded.

'How long staying, are you?'

She was silent for a moment, concentrating. Talking with the Force, as Yoda put it.

'I am not', she spoke finally. 'I have to go soon, very soon. Yes, I know what I said before', she interrupted before he opened his mouth to ask. 'But now... I think the Force wanted me to see him.'

'Yan?'

'That's his name? Yes, your padawan.'

He watched her for a while, concentrating.

'Something more you know, is there, Master Fay?'

'Just 'Fay'', she corrected, absent-mindedly. 'I have a strange feeling, Master Yoda, that we're witnessing a beginning. But of what, I cannot tell...'

Yoda nodded.

'But if you knew...', he began.

'Stop it, please. You know I tell all the things that need being told. Some things do not.'

The little Master sighed.

'Yes, know it, I do.'

'Don't ask, then.'

'Promise. May the Force guide you, Master Fay, as always done has it', he added, noticing she was going to leave.

'And may the Force guide you, Master Yoda', she said, turning towards the door. _May the Force guide you all in times yet to come..._

Yoda wanted to ask her about this second 'you', which to him sounded rather more like 'you, all Jedi' than 'you, Master Yoda', but she had already made her way out of the room. Then he changed his mind. If she did not tell it in a clearer way, there was no point asking.

He noticed his padawan had come near and knelt beside him. Yan's eyes were bright with curiosity.

'Who was she, Master?'

'An old friend...'

'Old? Master, she looked younger than me, she can't even be a Knight yet...'

Yoda gave him a look, one of his special multi-meaning ones.

'Can she not?'

'Well...', Yan hesitated, but only for a second. 'She looked approximately twenty...'

'So?', asked the little Master, with a faint hint of amusement and light irony in his voice. 'A break you deserve, padawan', he added, in a casual tone. 'Good training session, it was. A talent you have.' As for Yoda, that was an extremely huge compliment.

'Thank you, Master', Yan appreciated.

Yan watched his Master turning and slowly walking away. He was beginning to understand. Pieces of a story, so old that almost ancient – at least for a twenty-three-year-old padawan – were rising from the depths of his memory. The story even mentioned her name, he remembered, it must have been something with an 'F'...

He attached his lightsaber to his belt and left the room, following Yoda's footsteps and then turning into their quaters. A shower, he definitely needed one, a lunch, yes... And then he would have a plenty of time for himself... To check in the Archives, for example. Good idea. He would go there. That funny young archivist would probably help him if he asked, she was always so kind... What was her name? Jocasta? Yes, Jocasta. She always encouraged him to take some deeper interest in the history of the Order, now she would probably be so happy he finally did she would help him find all the information. She always knew where to search, was really brilliant in it. And kind.

Oh, well, and she had that really nice smile, which made him smile, too...


	4. Let

**_Let_**

**--**

Jedi should not be bored, but Master Yan Dooku was. Alderaan was too quiet after so many busy days on Coruscant. Well, at least he could try to relax a bit, and let his padawan do the same. Oh, yes... the boy was still there, walking right beside him, waiting for the answer to his question.

'It seems I got lost in thoughts for a while... All right, Qui-Gon, you can have an afternoon off. I should manage everything around here for a few hours.'

'Thank you, Master', the boy grinned, not exactly in a Jedi way.

'Now off you go.'

After a while Qui-Gon disappeared at the far end of the corridor, almost running, too quickly and without enough dignity for a Jedi – at least according to Master Yan's standards. When his padawan was gone, Dooku let a tiny smile appear on his face. He could not help liking the boy, he just couldn't.

He went to the gardens, to meditate upon his padawan. He still was not sure if taking Qui-Gon as an apprentice had been a god decision. If taking any apprentice as such had been a good decision.

Yan watched the snowy peaks on the horizon, letting their serenity to fill his thoughts. He was so lost in contemplation he did not notice someone else had come there, not until she stood right behind him.

He turned abruptly. And froze. He was not prepared to see such a young face. Twenty years old, not more.

'Yan Dooku?', asked the young woman, in a strangely familiar voice.

He had heard that voice before.

'I do know you...', he said, instead of answering. Why do answer a question that was rather a statement?

She nodded gently, with appreciation.

'Good memory...'

'And an eye for unique', he finished, looking intensely at her face. Her face, so young... No, Yan corrected himself, preserved in time. In the Force...

For a few minutes they just looked each other straight into face. He was the first to speak.

'I've never truly thought you are real... I've heard of you, Force, I've even seen you once, but I was sure that friend of Yoda's had to be someone else and you're just a legend...'

'Part of what you've heard must've been a legend', she retorted.

'Why are you here... Master Fay?' _I know you always do have a good reason._

'The Force led me', she answered calmly. _Don't you know the reason already?_

'I do know', he said, aloud. 'It is my padawan, isn't it?'

She gave him an attentive glance.

'Not this time. There is something going on, a Story with a capital 'S', and I do want to understand.'

'To understand what?', he, obviously, did not understand.

'Your part in it, Yan Dooku.'

It was ridiculous. A twenty-year-old Jedi – or, at least, looking so, asking him questions like that one. Of course he knew she was _Fay_, but still… He looked in her eyes once more. But this time, he saw the calm wisdom of centuries. And there were no more 'buts'.

'I do not know my part…', he began, slowly.

She nodded. _I know you don't._

'Will you let me see?'

He hesitated. What could she see that he did not know already? But… No, he could not refuse, not her.

'Yes.'

Looking intensely into his eyes, she raised her hand and laid it lightly on his chest, where his heart was. Then she closed her eyes. Suddenly he became strangely aware of his heartbeat. What was it telling he could not hear before?

Her eyes shot open. Then it struck him. There was only one possible answer…

'Is it… was it… the Dark Side?', somewhere, at the bottom of his voice, there was fear. He did not want to give into the Dark Side, he did not want so desperately…

'There is no more Dark Side in you than in any of us. Neither is it stronger.'

_I don't get it…_

_Neither do I._

For a few seconds they were silent together. No more than in any of them… But there was a shadow of the Dark Side in everyone… He did not wanted it. No.

'It's not fighting the Dark Side that makes a Jedi. It's fighting your own Dark Side', she said, her voice barely audible, but clear. 'There's one thing you have to remember, Yan Dooku', she continued, finally withdrawing her hand – only then did he notice it had been still resting on his heart. 'It's not about not being tainted with the shadow', she continued. 'It's about fighting it.'

He could still feel the warmth of her hand on his chest.

_You are not closer to the Dark Side than any of us._

He nodded, thankfully. What was he thankful for? Her words, or that warmth he still felt near his heart?

She watched him closely.

'It's time for me to go', she said, at last. 'May the Force be with you, Yan Dooku.'

He could feel she had intended to use his title, 'Master Dooku'. So why the name, again?... The warmth was still there.

'May the Force be with you, too, Master Fay.' _It always is, isn't it?_

She just smiled.

'It's only 'Fay'.'

He watched her as she walked away, not noticing how did she manage to blend into the background so well she disappeared in a blink of an eye. She was there and next moment there was only the green of the garden.

He felt some words had been left unsaid.

_Take care of your padawan, Yan Dooku. He will be a great Jedi one day._

_I know. He's a brilliant boy._

_Just let him sometimes know it, too, would you?_

He felt his lips formed a half-smile on their own accord.

_I will try._

_Don't try. Do it._

_I've always wondered from whom Master Yoda picked this phrase…_

'Master?'

Qui-Gon's voice brought him back to the present.

'You are back so quickly?'

'I thought that maybe I could be of some use here, and after everything is done we could maybe have a few hours off together…', Qui-Gon sounded a bit unsure.

_Let him know…_ Well, this was as good an occasion as any other.

'With pleasure, padawan. Come, let's have a little walk around here. And meanwhile we could think of something that will make this mission less boring…'

'Maybe a dueling lesson?', asked the boy hopefully.

This time Dooku let Qui-Gon see the hint of a smile on his face.

'Why not. Your progress with lightsaber is more than enough for dueling. Far more.'

As for Dooku, this was a huge compliment. Qui-Gon grinned. Totally in a non-Jedi way. Yan looked at his padawan's brightened face and offered one of his rare full smiles.

_Fay, don't tell m__e he has a destiny. Because all of the known Jedi who had a destiny died too early… Were killed. Don't let him, Fay. I can't lose him. I can't. I couldn't bear it. A master should be the first to go, not the padawan, and I've seen too many times as it happened otherwise. Don't let him, Fay. Please._


	5. Apprentice

_**Apprentice**_

--

People in the village told him the shaman would come soon – actually, it was the healer, she seemed the only one around there that could speak basic. Good news, at last. His hand should have been fine by now, but it did not want to heal properly. He concentrated on saving the ship first – well, this could've been a mistake. Mistakes are something that does happen even to Jedi Knights. Thanks Force, the Whills tribe – had he captured the name correctly? - let him stay in the village until he'd get better.

He heard the noise outside the hut growing louder. He could hear a new voice among the villagers. The shaman had arrived. He concentrated to listen to the conversation, but he could only hear, without understanding anything.

'Ktoś obcy jest w wiosce?', asked the shaman. The voice was a one of a young woman.

'Jeden z Zakonu.', it was the healer who answered.

'Jedi? Tutaj?', again the shaman.

All right, let's look at the bright side. He understood one word – now that was some progress. They were talking about him. About him, or was there another Jedi on the planet?

'Musiał lądować awaryjnie, traf chciał, że na naszej planecie. Jest ranny.'

This time he was almost sure he recognized the Llyrian word for 'planet'. Almost. That did make a difference.

'Coś poważnego?', there was concern in the shaman's voice.

That startled him. Concern, for a total stranger? Why?

'Wypadek przy lądowaniu. Będzie lepiej, jeśli na wszelki wypadek zajmiesz się tą ręką.'

Whatever it was, the shaman probably agreed, for the healer entered.

'You have a guest, Jedi.'

He nodded.

The healer backed away, letting the shaman enter.

He couldn't suppress a surprised gasp. He had been expecting someone eldery, maybe an older woman, grandmother type, like the Eldery Healer in the Temple.

Yes, the shaman was a woman, but concerning similarities, that was all. She was very young, about twenty years old. Something about her reminded of that planet, Llyria – a touch of free, untammed force of nature, like the feeling of the wind in one's hair or raindrops on one's face, force closed in the strange ornaments tattooed on her cheek and forehead. And, like that planet, she was fair – fair hair, falling down her back in wild waves, and grey eyes – like silver brightness of a coming morning. But only two words came to his mind upon seeing her – 'beautiful' and 'striking'. Then came a third word, Force only knew why – and that was 'ageless'.

She measured him with a cool, steady stare.

'Who are you, Jedi?', her voice was as young and fair as her face. But under the youth and fairness there was more to it. A calm strength, unlimited, unboundable.

He stood up and bowed his head in greeting, gently, with respect.

'Qui-Gon Jinn, my lady.' He had no idea why he used those words, titling her like this. It just seemed appropriate.

Her features softened.

'My name is Fay. The healer told me you're hurt, so maybe let's get down to your arm, then.'

'It's…', he began.

'It's definitely not all right if they told me about it, I assure you', she interrupted. 'Be seated, please, and let me see your wound. Now. I don't have that much time.'

He sat down obediently, and rolled up the left sleeve of his robe up to the elbow, revealing a very deep, long cut, another half of which was still hidden under the cloth. She bent down and examined the wound for a while. She moved her hand along the cut without touching it, examining further, through the Force. Through the Force?...

Finally, she stood up.

'Nothing very serious if it'll be taken proper care of. I'm afraid you'll have to come with me, I don't have all the things with me now, there's no much need of using them usually...'

He nodded, unrolling his sleeve.

'I'll go.'

'Take your things. I'll be back in a while.'

'I'll join you in five minutes, if you wouldn't mind.'

She gave him an attentive stare, attentive and judging. Then she nodded, turned and left the hut.

He heard a voice calling her as soon as she left. Someone had been waiting for her, and she knew it. It was a Jedi thing. But he didn't feel any Force in her. All living beings had their unique Force patterns, even if they were not Force-sensitive. She didn't have a distinctive pattern. In the Force, she was invisible. And yet he felt her using the Force.

It was only after a while when a though struck him – if her pattern was invisible, it must've been the pattern of the Force itself.

--

He found the shaman in one of the huts on the borders of the village. Fay was sitting on a bed, near a very pale woman, lying there. The woman was still young, but there were silver strands in her hair and deep sadness in her eyes. Qui-Gon looked into those eyes and understood – the woman was dying.

'Pozwól mi odejść, Fay', the woman's voice was tired and pleading.

Fay nodded gently. Then she put her hand on the woman's forehead. Qui-Gon felt he almost could see the light, radiating from the shaman's fingers. Fay whispered something, quiet words which sounded like a blessing in the silent room. The she rised.

'Śpij dobrze', she said, smiling.

The woman smiled in answer, and whispered what probably was a thank-you.

Fay turned towards the door, giving Qui-Gon only a short glance.

'Come.'

And she left.

And then he felt all the pieces falling into their places, completing the puzzle. She had the same pattern as the Force. She was a Jedi… at least, she had been a Jedi once. Now, he realized, she was following the Force's call, and the Force gave her all its powers. She was the strongest of them all…

And she could've helped this woman. She did not.

--

They were walking into the woods, in silence. She did not speak, and he was wondering whether to ask her or not. Finally he made up his mind.

'You could have helped this woman… Could have saved her…'

She raised her head and looked at him, her eyes calm, but suddenly its grey was like steel.

'Do not judge what you cannot understand, Jedi. You haven't seen enough to judge.'

He spoke before he though better.

'And you have, I presume?'

'Do not presume.'

That moment reflection came. Yes, she looked approximately twenty. But no Jedi of twenty could use the healing techniques so efficiently she did. And her voice… Something in her made you feel the only appropriate way was asking and not a such discussion.

'Forgive me. I have no right to talk to you like that. Please make me understand.'

She stopped and turned, looking into his eyes. He looked into hers. He couldn't look away.

'This woman lost her husband before their child was born. Her baby was born dead, they didn't manage to call me in time… Her parents are gone for almost five years now. Yes, I could have prolonged her life, it this could be called help. But I cannot heal a heart so broken… No-one can.' Her eyes were weary, saddened by the tragedy she had witnessed. He could feel it hurt her. Not because she agreed to let that woman die, but because she couldn't prevent all that had happened before.

He didn't know what to say. He tried to touch her through the Force, to comfort her somehow, though there was no real comfort. The only thing he could do was to let her know she was not alone, that someone was by her side. Yet… he was a stranger to her, what comfort his presence could be?

She blinked, feeling his mind touching hers. Her face changed. She was a Jedi, and he was a one, and because of that his little kind-hearted gesture indeed had helped.

_Thank you…_

In her eyes he saw… infinity? Long years, centuries, endless memories, unimaginable experience.

_Who are you?..._

'Fay', she said, breaking the atmosphere. 'Do come, Jedi. There might be a time for questions later.'

'And what time is now?'

'For going home.'

--

Fay's home was almost at the feet of the nearby mountain chain, hidden deep in the forests. So deep one heard either nature or silence, or one's own thoughts. And the constant quiet murmur of a little stream, the wind in the trees, silent steps of various forest dwellers and, when the evening was falling softly, as it was when they were reaching 'home', a nightingale, singing.

It turned out that 'home' was a simple hut, a bit higher than those in the village. Inside, it smelled of hers, with a hint of warm fire. Herbs were hanging everywhere, even from the ladder leading upstairs, which itself had enough room only for a bed and – as Qui-Gon assumed – some more herbs.

'Admiring my herbs collection?', she asked, putting a kettle full of water above the fireplace.

'Kind of.'

She lit up the fire, leaving the water to boil, and then she went upstairs.

'Do sit down, please', came her voice from above.

He sat obediently, on the second bed, one between the fireplace and the window.

'Do you need any help?', he asked, guessing the answer would be no.

'Not yet, Jedi, but thank you, anyway.'

She came down, holding a bunch of different herbs. A sharp scent, mint-like, filled the hut. She returned to the fireplace and took the kettle off the fire. The water was only barely warm. She crumbled her herbs into the water, watching it changing colour as she put the kettle on the floor beside the bed. From a bag at her belt she took a clean piece of delicate cloth.

He understood at once, and began unrolling his left sleeve.

'It'd be simpler if you took your tunic off. And don't look at me like that', she eyed him with a hint of amusement, noticing his uneasy glare. 'I'm a healer, you know. You'd really need something more to make an impression on me.'

He laughed quietly, relaxing a bit after her little joke.

'That's better. All right, I'll find something else I need', she turned away and approached a shelf, filled with all kinds of vials and little jars.

He didn't answer, only quickly slid his tunic off, grateful for her understanding. Then he put its right sleeve back on, deciding covering at least half his chest would make him feel more comfortable.

Fay turned back to him, holding a jar of blue balm in her hands. She came to the bed and sat on the floor, not noticing – or only pretending to – his uneasiness.

'Just relax. You should be getting used to healers.' So she did notice.

'I guess so', he answered. Somehow, her light humour did make him relax, if only a bit.

He watched her as she dipped the cloth into the water. She raised her right hand, putting her left one on his wrist in a firm grip.

'It may hurt', she warned, casually, beginning to bathe his wound with herbed water. 'Shouldn't I be getting used to a bit of pain?'

The corner of her lips raised in half a smile.

'Probably.' She finished clearing the wound, then, having tossed the cloth back into the water, moved her hand along the cut, concentrating. The cut was deep and long, reaching from his forearm up to half his arm, but at least it was clean. 'All right, no infection.' She let go of his wrist and reached for the balm jar.

'Lucky me.' Qui-Gon smiled slightly.

'Now that's better. All right, don't move for a while, please.'

He wanted to ask why, but when she put some balm on the wound he understood – it was ice-freezing. At least it felt so. The feeling slowly wore out as she carefully applied more balm. Finally she reached to her belt for another clean piece of cloth, tying it lightly around his arm.

'Two or three days and your arm will be as good as new', she announced, standing up.

She took both the jar and the kettle and brought them onto a little table, near the fireplace. 'If you want to wash there's some water ready outside. And hurry up, please. I'm tired.'

She looked tired indeed, he thought as he was getting out.

When he came back a simple dinner was ready beside his bed – bread, cheese, butter, some tea and a small bowl of blueberries. The bed was ready, too. He heard Fay's steady breathing from upstairs and knew she was asleep already.

--

He woke up at dawn. Outside the hut the world was grey with rain. Inside it was silent, aside from soft whisper of the raindrops on forest leaves. Fay wasn't there.

Qui-Gon quickly put on his cloak and went outside. He noticed a silhouette, a lighter grey on the background of dark grey forest.

Fay was just standing there, her eyes closed and her arms half-opened, breathing deeply. Enjoying the morning rain, feeling how it was bringing life to every plant and creature in the forest… Feeling the Force floating in that very rain, it came suddenly to Qui-Gon's mind. She could feel the Force _in the rain_. She could probably feel it everywhere. And she didn't have to try to touch the Force as Jedi did, for the Force was touching her all the time. She was… It was beyond words. Suddenly a line from an old legend flashed in his memory. Yes, the legends were right, the was no other word for her but her name. Fay, only Fay.

Slowly, like in a dream, he approached her.

'Teach me…', words escaped his lips before he had time to think.

She opened her eyes, looking straight into his. She didn't speak.

'Teach me', he repeated his plea, this time more consciously. 'Teach me to notice the Force in every living being, in everything, teach me to feel it…', he spoke quickly, afraid she wouldn't let him finish. He was so eager to learn…

'I wondered when would you ask me this', she said.

He was startled.

'You…. did what?'

She almost smiled.

'The Living Force is very strong with you, Jedi. Sooner or later you were bound to notice I'm connected with the Living Force. And yes, I will teach you. But be warned, I've never had an apprentice before.'

'Thank you, Master…'

'Simple 'Fay' would be sufficient', Fay interrupted, with her usual half-smile. 'Oh, and I doubt it will be similar to the teaching your had in the Temple. You see, Jedi, this cannot be explained. You have to feel it.'

'Would I… Could I?'

'You can. It's a matter of time.'

--

She was leaving, going on a late evening stroll. He sat up on his bed, watching her.

'May I join you?', he asked simply.

'Yes.' There was something in the way she said it he knew she had been expecting that question. Waiting for it. 'And yes, it was a right question to ask', she added. 'Come, Jedi. Stars are waiting.'

He smiled at her last words, but she didn't notice, already leaving her home. He followed her into the woods, and up, where the woods gave place to a mountain meadow. A snowy peak glistened somewhere in the distance.

Qui-Gon breathed the cool night air, enjoying the refreshing wind, admiring the beauty of the place. It had, as the whole planet, a quiet beauty, but in that particular place it was both more distant and closer, making one feel small but itself being more noticeable, more striking.

Fay laid down on the grass, looking at the sky.

He thought he should try it, too. On Coruscant – his homeworld now, for he didn't have any other – there were almost no stars. The planet-city never slept, and always had lights turned on. Sky on Coruscant wasn't even a dark velvet blue for the most of the year, as a night sky should be, it was a weird colour of lilac, only darker, with a yellowish-white glow and a touch of soft pink. There, on Llyria, the sky was dark, the rich shade of dark ink, and full of stars. It made him feel very, very small, and yet a part of that whole beauty. As long as he was a part of that magnificent world, it didn't matter how tiny a part he was.

He felt Fay's thoughts listening to his own.

'Beautiful, isn't it?', she asked, still gazing at the stars, her voice barely audible, as if she didn't want to distract those wonders even with a word.

'Yes', he answered, his voice equally quiet. He hesitated for a moment, not knowing if she was in a mood for a talk, then he decided to take a chance. 'I've never seen so many stars before, except when in space.'

'There aren't many stars on Coruscant?'

'Almost none at all.'

And that was it? He felt disappointed for a moment. When would she start teaching him? Calm down, he told himself. She knew better.

'How do you feel?', Fay asked in the same levelled voice.

'Very small. But in harmony.' He answered, lying down to have a better view. Stars were breathtaking.

'Feel this harmony. Let it fill you. Have this in mind, but let go.' Her calm voice made his thoughts floating, calming, dissolving into the peace of that starlit sky.

'Don't think. Feel. No past, for it cannot be changed. No future, for it will attend to itself in time. Only now. Feel the wind. Feel the ground, the grass underneath you. Feel the stars. Don't watch them. Feel.'

He followed her voice into the peace of mind, letting go of everything. Wind, grass, stars… Qui-Gon closed his eyes. He cleared his thoughts, quietened them. He didn't think, he felt.

Minutes passed, but nothing happened. And then, suddenly, when he was almost asleep, he felt it. It was like knowing there were voices he was about to hear, colours he could see, light he might touch…

'The Force is everywhere. Don't seek for it. Let it touch you', came Fay's voice from a distance.

He let go of trying, of waiting, let the feelings fill him…. And then he felt it. It was like a symphony of uncountable voices singing together in what made a perfect harmony, like a set of colours suddenly forming a rainbow, and then they all mingled and turned into light… He could feel the Force all around him, hear it, see it… He opened his eyes, but the feeling was still there. Around him, the forest, grass, wind and stars were singing with the harmony of the Force, of the Living Force. And, near, was warmth… He reached for it.

_You made it_, said the warmth in his thoughts, in Fay's voice.

'You made it', she repeated, aloud. 'In the first trial. You made it.'

He didn't need to look at her to know she was smiling. He felt it in the Force.

'You will learn to connect to the Living Force whenever you'll need it, to sense it everywhere. You made a remarkable beginning. You'll be a great Jedi one day, Qui-Gon Jinn.'

--

They were sitting together by the fireplace, sharing an evening cup of tea. Qui-Gon felt a shade of sadness. He didn't want to leave. Yet he had to. His former Master had contacted him, and his voice told Qui-Gon clearly how much Master Yan had been worried about him. He only calmed down upon hearing where Qui-Gon was.

Still, he had to return. His arm was all right, and he had no excuses.

"I will miss this planet", he thought silently to himself.

She heard his thoughts, of course, or felt them. She always could.

'This planet, this place will stay with you', she said softly, looking into his eyes. 'It will stay here…', at those words her hand touched his temple gently. 'And here…', she added, as her hand moved to his chest and rested on his heart briefly.

After she withdrew her hand he still felt its warmth. Qui-Gon knew it would stay there, too, and always would be so real.

'I know', was all he answered.

She nodded.

They finished their teas in silence. It was getting late when they finally got up.

Qui-Gon was about to go to his bed and try to sleep, but then he remembered beautiful stars on the night Llyrian sky.

Again, she understood his thoughts.

"Let's go and see the stars."

--

As on the day she had begun teaching him, they laid on the grass, looking into the sky. Even for Llyria, that night the stars were astoundingly bright.

--

He headed for his ship.

"Qui-Gon!"

He turned, hearing Fay's voice.

She stood at the border of the village, with a little smile on her face.

"May the Force be with you."

He bowed slightly, with a thankful smile. What could he answer to this? To her? Force was always with her…

_Force will always be there, Qui-Gon. Remember. Always, when you'll need it._

His mind was telling him something he couldn't even put into a clear thought. She picked it all up, of course. She always did.

_And I will stand by your side in times of need._

His mind calmed. Now he could take off.

* * *

--

Author's note: the language Whills speak in this ff is actually a real language, Polish ;) So here's a cameo for all Polish SW fans here on :)


	6. Love

_**Love**_

Obi-Wan was worried. It'd been months since Tahl's death, and his Master was still broken. It seemed he couldn't live without her anymore, he merely existed. Yes, he tried. Not hard enough. He had no reason. Obi-Wan had to find him a reason to live, and find it quickly.

The padawan let out a sigh. He had no idea whatsoever.

Suddenly someone laid a hand on his shoulder.

'Obi-Wan?', said a soft female voice behind him.

He turned abruptly. He wasn't prepared for the sight that met his eyes. Yes, he recognized her. Qui-Gon had told him about her once, and, after being asked, so had master Dooku.

'Master Fay?...'

Fay's bright eyes looked into his with concern and warmth.

'Don't worry, my child. Don't worry too much, don't grieve upon not being able to change the whole world, even if it's only Qui-Gon's world.'

'But I… he…', Obi-Wan wanted to explain. His Master had been neglecting his training lately, but it was nothing, really. He only wanted Qui-Gon to live again, to be able to smile. He wanted his Master back as he once had been. He…

'He will never be the same. But he will live, and he will learn to smile again.'

Obi-Wan fell silent. There were simply too many things he wanted to say.

Understanding shone in fair Master's eyes. Fay took a step towards Obi-Wan and hugged him, as a mother could do.

Obi-Wan closed his eyes. He felt a little boy again, like when his mother used to hug him when he was sad. It was comforting, even though he knew that wasn't his mother, only Master Fay. He didn't really have a mother anymore.

'Yes', said Fay gently. 'But you still have a father.'

Then she let him go and headed towards Qui-Gon's room.

--

Qui-Gon was looking through the window at the crowded streets. The night was falling slowly. How did he wish to see the stars…

How did he wish Tahl was with him still… Or even at the other side of the galaxy, as long as she'd still be alive…

The door hissed silently. Qui-Gon didn't turn. Whoever that was should understand he was not in a mood to talk.

'Pity there are no stars…', said a soft voice beside him.

He turned at once.

'Fay?...'

She looked at him, taking in his tired face, his eyes, without their usual sparkle. She looked into his soul, taking in his grief.

'I once promised you I will be with you when you'll need me.' Her voice was soothing, like a warm rain.

He was quiet for a moment. And then he spoke.

'I miss her. Every day. I can't get over losing her. I can't. She was my life. My…'

'There is someone for whom you are life', she interrupted gently.

Qui-Gon's eyes widened, as he realized an important thing he had been overlooking for so long.

'Obi-Wan… Force, I left him alone... I…', his voice broke off. There was guilt in his eyes.

Fay laid a reassuring hand in his shoulder.

'Don't blame yourself. But he needs you, very much. And the best you can do is to be there for him.'

'I will', said Qui-Gon firmly, a faint shadow of that old sparkle appearing is his eyes. 'Force knows, I will. I won't leave him again, he doesn't deserve that.'

'I know you won't.'

Qui-Gon regained composture.

'Thank you… You gave me the reason I needed.'

'I kept my promise, Jedi.'

A faint smile appeared on Qui-Gon's lips at the way she said 'Jedi' just as she used to years ago.

She smiled back, for a moment.

'I'll be leaving soon.'

He sighed.

'I know you can't stay. You never can.'

'I am a wanderer, you can't help it. But there is one thing I wanted to give you before I'll go', she said, and stepped closer to hug him, as she did for Obi-Wan.

He cling to her, and she held him tight. She laid her hand gently on his head as he let his tears flow. Yes, there had been one more thing Qui-Gon needed, a shoulder to cry on.

'Remember her, but don't grieve', said Fay's soft voice. 'Love sometimes is to let go… Let go of grief. Keep the memories… And let her smile again at your smile.'

He did not answer, but deep inside him he promised his Tahl she would see his smile again.

--

Fay found Obi-Wan in the Room of a Thousand Fountains. He was trying to meditate, but had problems with concentration.

'Qui-Gon wants to talk with you', she said, offering a little reassuring smile. A smile which told Obi-Wan everything will be all right.


	7. Storm

**_Storm_**

Anakin was leading the strangers to his house. They had no time to return to their ship if they wanted to be safe. Tatooine sandstorms were dangerous.

He talked for a while to an eldery street-trader, one who sometimes acted as a grandmother for him. Maybe because she'd never seen her own grandchildren, living on a world far away from Tatooine. On leaving for his home, he noticed a tall hooded figure in a small distance. He couldn't see the stranger's face, only a strand of fair hair. And she had a female feeling about her. Well, there were plenty of strangers in Mos Espa those days. They were coming to see the race.

Anakin beckoned the strangers to follow him more quickly. They didn't have much time, and still some way to go before they'd reached home.

--

Qui-Gon noticed Anakin spotted something, and discreetly looked in that direction. He felt the stranger's eyes on them, then shifting to watch him only. He was startled for a moment, but then the silhouette turned and walked away, disappearing in the raising clouds of sand. He sought in his memory for a moment, trying to remember where he'd seen that silhouette before, but he heard Anakin's call. They had to go faster to reach the boy's home in time. And they had to go with him, there was no other way.

--

Anakin looked back, checking if all three of them were following him. The hooded stranger was now further, but still visible. Anakin had an eerie feeling the stranger was watching them. A hand reached for the hood and, for a moment, Anakin saw the stranger's face, blurred behind the thin cloud of sand, but still distinguishable. She was the most striking woman he'd ever seen. Probably an angel, for if Padme wasn't a one, that stranger certainly was.

The woman saw he was watching. Not noticing the wind or sand, she kept her hood down for a while. Instead of the hood she raised her hand, as if in a sign of blessing, but Anakin couldn't say whom of them four she was blessing exactly. Or maybe all of them.

Then the woman turned, raising her hood again. The storm was coming.


	8. Peace

_**Peace**_

The energy wall in front of him was a faint red glow. Behind it, was a bright red and dark black face of the Sith. And behind him, behind a set of such walls, was his padawan.

Then he understood what had been troubling him since leaving Coruscant. One of them would never make it back. And that had to be him. He wouldn't let his padawan die, no, never. Obi-Wan was too young, too promising… And was his padawan, and as dear to him as his own child would be. He felt Obi-Wan's worried eyes on him.

_I won't let it happen._

He kneeled on the floor, sinking into meditation, trying to prepare somehow for what he was going to do. Trying to do something to be sure he'd succeed. Trying to calm his mind.

_There must be some happiness still somewhere on this planet, you have only to find it. It w__ill give you peace. Seek. Seek._

He reached out, searching. Somewhere far, a mother was settling her child to sleep, humming softly. Somewhere far, a young man held his fiancee's hand. Somewhere far, and old married couple just kissed. Somewhere far, a family greeted a father who just returned home. Somewhere far, the was love, devotion, commitment. Good. Somewhere far, but close enough, on this planet where a war was going on. He felt their peace…

_-blink-_

A star blinked before his eyes.

_-blink-_

And a second one.

_-blink-_

And then another…

_-blink--blink--blink-_

And suddenly the sky was full of stars. The night was warm. He felt the scent of grass. Wind tried to play with his hair. Grass under his feet, open starry sky above him… And a warm presence beside him, before him, a warm touch on his temple, a warm hand on his heart… He breathed peace. There was only the Force, in which everything was connected and complete.

And he let go. Of everything.

And as the energy barrier went out, he shot upright, lightsaber in his hand. And then he let go of his life. The feeling of death waiting for one of them was gone. He found peace.

He knew his padawan was fighting a Sith. He knew Obi-Wan would make it.

--

His padawan was beside him, holding him, as if it could stop death itself. And he had to ask him to take care of the boy. Aside of feeling that was what had to be, it was the only way to ensure his padawan wouldn't have time to grieve.

He touched Obi-Wan's cheek, wiping away a tear.

"Goodbye, my child…"

Someone had told him once there was no goodbyes. Only long times of not seeing each other.

He felt a warm hand on his heart as it stopped beating.


	9. Flames

The concept with ash is borrowed from Katherine Scholes's "The Rain Queen" (fabulous book, by the way).

The concept with amber, however, is mine.

* * *

_**Flames**_

The night was calm, and beautiful, so starry as a night near the city could be only on Naboo. Beautiful and cold, mercilessly cold. Or was it the cold he felt inside him? A tiny sharp piece of ice that thrust into his heart, but not melting there, only hurting him, every minute and second. Making his heart cold, his thoughts deafened, his soul numb. The stars were little crystals of ice on the cold darkness of the night sky. The wind was cool and refreshing, but it could not make him feel better. Now it wasn't wind any longer, it was simply the cold air moving. Cold…

Dooku came closer and stood at the door, close enough to see and far enough not to be seen. They were all there… No, not all. Qui-Gon wasn't. He never would again. His apprentice, his padawan… His son.

Yan watched the body that once was Qui-Gon, lying on a pedestal in the middle of the Burial Dome. Calm as if he was only sleeping… Yan knew he wasn't. Or maybe was? Eternal sleep… His face, so peaceful… Peaceful? No. There was something about Qui-Gon's face, a concern of some kind, a concern that made Dooku shiver. Didn't he earn a right for a peaceful rest, even after death?

He saw a slim, hooded figure putting something on the pedestal, around Qui-Gon's body. It looked like small stones, in the dark. It must be one of the Queen's handmaidens, he thought. Probably some Naboo burial rituals...

The handmaiden lightened a brand – he hadn't noticed how she did it – and offered it to Obi-Wan. Tradition, he thought. It should be either the padawan… or the master. He couldn't bring himself to go down there, into the Dome, he should have, but couldn't. To his surprise Obi-Wan shook his head. But then reflection came – if _he_ couldn't bright himself to do this last offering, how could young Kenobi? This gesture, lighting the pyre, was so ultimate, so final… as if ending everything. No, neither of them could do it.

The handmaiden looked into Obi-Wan's eyes and took a step back. She exchanged quick glances with Yoda. The Grandmaster nodded – or bowed his head gently, Yan couldn't tell. The handmaiden turned, and now he'd be able to see her face if she wasn't wearing a hood. He only noticed a strand of fair wavy hair.

In small, slow steps she approached the pedestal. There she stopped for a moment. Looking – he just knew it, he felt it, he was just _sure_ of it – looking at Qui-Gon's face, at those features, even in death so full of serenity. Then, very gently, she raised the brand and set fire to the pyre. In a blink of an eye flames took the body into their warm embrance, dancing higher and higher, as if trying to reach the night sky with their arms of rising smoke.

A strange scent filled the air. It wasn't the smell of burning wood, neither of the burning body. It was… Oh, Force... Suddenly he remembered. It was amber. They mentioned it in the chronicles and in legends. One of the oldest Jedi burial rituals, now long forgotten… 'A great soul smells of amber', they used to say, but it was years ago, so long even Yoda couldn't remember those times.

The handmaiden was still standing near the pyre, as if the flames and heat couldn't affect her. And, the scent of burning amber still filling the air, she started to sing. The words were of none known language – at least to him, but the meaning was clear. It was a threnody, sublime yet simple, an infinite sadness put into a melody, a broken heart sung with the words.

Yan felt something wet on his cheek. It struck him it must've been a tear. It surprised him that another one followed the first. Yan Dooku never cried, had never cried. Until now. He wasn't cold anymore. The sadness the music was awaking in his heart, the tears flowing down his cheeks, the sudden memory of Qui-Gon's smile, which the amber scent brought back from years ago – they were all burning.

How could Force let it happen? How? It should've never been like that, the master was to go before his padawan… How? He felt he would never forgive the Force, and as soon as he thought it he realized Qui-Gon wouldn't approve, and how sad would it make him…

And then he realized that – for him – this was the end. The ultimate end. Young Kenobi has this little child that would for sure become his apprentice, and thus he would be needed, and never feel alone, and be able to live with this loss. For him, Yan Dooku, this was the end, for there was no-one who would ever need or miss him. The flames were still burning, but in Dooku's soul all that burned faded into cold ashes of emptiness. His world collapsed, and he would never live again, he could only exist. He remembered Qui-Gon's smile and his joy during his first dueling lesson, and the merry lights in his young eyes, and then his sorrow and he came to his former master after losing Xanatos, as he came seeking comfort, and a faint hope after taking Obi-Wan as his apprentice, and a thousand other things Qui-Gon confided in him. And Yan saw, all too clearly, how empty was the world without Qui-Gon. Emptiness, filled with awareness of all the things he should have told his padawan, and he never had, like that if he ever had a son, he'd wish him to be exactly like Qui-Gon, and because he hadn't, Qui-Gon was like a son to him. Now it was too late for telling anything.

And then, under all of this, there was fear.

--

Obi-Wan watched her setting fire to the pyre, so gently as if both the flames and the body lying on the pedestal were alive. He put a hand on Anakin's little shoulder… Life. There was still life. He has to keep the vow he made to his master. He will train the boy, take care of him. Teach him all he learned from Qui-Gon.

He watched the flames, breathing the scent of burning amber, listening to the threnody she was singing. Somehow someone who wrote the melody knew exactly what he was feeling right now. Or maybe these things always felt the same...

He let the melody fill him. He could feel the Force in every note, in every word she sang. He didn't cry. The sorrow was there, yes, but for now he could bear it, with all his fellow Jedi at his side, and this little boy seeking his guidance and help. He knew that he would cry. When he would be left alone, and he would settle to sleep, and send his master the usual goodnight through their bond, and his master… his father… wouldn't be there anymore… then, he would cry. Now he had to take care of Anakin, he had to make it for him and start living again straightaway. And he knew that somehow he would manage, because that little one needed him, as once he needed Qui-Gon… A single tear flowed down his cheek, not more. Not now.

And, although she was still watching the flames, he felt her strength keeping him standing tall.

--

The flames were slowly turning into ashes. Yan hid in the shadows, waiting for all of them to leave. He wanted to be alone, and… He didn't knew what 'and'. But there must've been something.

When everyone left, he entered the Dome.

He saw that she was still standing in the same place, but this time her hood was down, and her hair was a fair patch in the dim light of the embers. She put both hands into the ashes, not noticing they still were hot enough to burn, as if it didn't bother her. Or maybe it didn't, for it seemed not to hurt her. Then she raised her hands, covering her face with the ash.

He wanted to speak to her. He wasn't able to. He only managed one word through the Force.

_Fay…_

As she turned to face him he saw that on her cheeks the ash was mingling with tears.

'There is no such power that could make it not happen', she said, her voice calm, yet barely audible.

His hands clenched into fists as he tried to calm.

'He might have lived, if he didn't give up his life for others so willingly…', she added softly.

'I… I know… But… if he did… he wouldn't be him…'

She understood. She always did.

'And you loved him for who he was.'

He remained silent.

She came closer and, for a brief moment, put her hand on his shoulder and looked into his eyes. She saw his fear, and the moment she saw it he saw it too. And the emptiness. And, somewhere on the horizon, the darkness, awaiting.

'Yan, don't let this happen… Don't. For him. Don't.' Was this a quiet plea he heard in her voice?

'I… I'll try.'

She looked away and turned from him without another word, walking out of the Dome, her steps slow and heavy with sorrow. He watched her walking away. But this time he did not feel the warmth of her hand where it was only a while before, as he once had, even though this time the marks of her ash-stained fingers were still visible on his black robe. And he knew, knowing she must've known it too, that probably there even won't be any trying. And even if he tried, he would fail, for there wasn't enough strength in him. There was no strength left in him at all.

And then, for the last time, in his mind he pictured Qui-Gon's body dissolving into flames, and the flames that lit in his eyes when he was alive. And then he put those memories out of his mind, one by one, all of them. The memories of Qui-Gon should never see him heading towards darkness.

He wanted to leave, to walk away without looking back. Standing at the door, he stopped. Slowly, hesitantly, he turned his head. He felt the suggestion of amber scent in the air, suppressed by another smell. The smell of ash. He fell down onto his knees, burying his face in his hands.

--

A quiet, very quiet voice echoed from the Force. If Obi-Wan's thought's weren't so focused on little Anakin, he could have heard it, a well-known voice, which he was already missing so much, crying a single painful word into the night.

_Master!…_

Obi-Wan felt something he couldn't identify. He squeezed Anakin's shoulder gently, seeking comfort in the awareness of the boy's presence. He turned his head and looked at Fay, standing near, her profile fair in the clear light of the moon. He saw her raising her hand to her face, wiping away what could've only been a tear. She turned her head, looking at the Dome, as if to look at someone who stood somewhere there. The wind brought to Obi-Wan her silent whisper.

'Not any longer, Qui-Gon…'

Her voice, so calm for all this time, now was broken. Then she turned, so that Obi-Wan couldn't see her face. But he heard her sob.

--

Someone else also heard her crying. A spirit watched her with eyes that once were the clearest blue, and now were sadness. And knowledge, and understanding. And, at the core, serenity. And, deeper still, there was hope. There was faith.

_May the Force be with you..._

The eyes saw her head going up in a rapid movement, looking around, finding no-one except Obi-Wan and little Anakin. And then stopping, looking exactly into those watching eyes, even seeing their blue. On her face, stained with tears and grey with ash, appeared a smile, so tiny it hardly was there, but in her eyes there was a dawn-silvery reflection of that hope. And, in the colour of light, faith. Her shoulders straightened.

* * *

_Author's note:_

This is my favourite chapter so far, along with 'Apprentice'. I like writing Qui-Gon, but so far I like writing Dooku even more… A different perspective, plus he's still one of the less exploited characters, plus it seems I enjoy trying to make him somehow less Sith and more human. Bear with me ;)

And a little question... Does anyone know if Dooku has any canon name? I've seen quite a few version of his name in fanfics already. I gave him another one, which by the way isn't my idea, but I don't remember where I've come across it .


	10. Clouds

_**Clouds**_

It was done. He was Padme's husband. After she first rejected him, then admitted she returned his love. She was his. Forever.

They married the day before, and he knew he was due back to Coruscant. He'd head off in two days, maybe three. He couldn't bring himself to leaving his Padme.

He crossed the main street of Theed, crowded at that time of day. He was so lost in thoughts about his beloved he almost run into a woman. He turned immediately, shouting an apology.

'I'm sorry!'

The woman turned and Anakin let out a silent gasp. He'd seen that face once, years, years ago, on Tatooine. Or maybe she was just very, very alike that woman? Grey piercing eyes looked at him for a moment, then the woman turned from him and walked away, without a word.

Anakin forgot about the incident. The resemblance had to be a coincidence, after all.

--

But that evening, when he was lying next to his Padme, watching her in her sleep, he couldn't get rid of the thought he was a Jedi. He was a Jedi and what they'd done was against the Code. And, worst of all, it'd have to be a lie. They'd have to keep it secret even from Obi-Wan. Anakin found the thought uncomfortable. Maybe, if Obi-Wan knew, he could somehow persuade the Council… no, wait, that was stupid and naive. Obi-Wan would never be persuaded himself.

He heard raindrops knocking on the window glass, and let the sound lull him to sleep. He slept so sound he didn't hear the roll of the coming thunder, and the heavy rain that followed.

* * *

_Author's note:_

Ok, I know this chapter's very very short. But I can't stand Anakin. I simply can't. But he was an important part of the whole business._  
_


	11. Force

_**Force**_

Just when they thought they're safe, Ventress appeared again, lightsabers in both hands, attacking from behind. He heard Fay's little sigh as she fell down, wounded. Ventress didn't bother any more, she escaped. The factory was collapsing, and they would die anyway.

No, thought Obi-Wan. They couldn't. They had to make it!

He kneeled beside Fay, gently gathering her in his arms and holding her head up.

'Fay?'

She opened her grey piercing eyes and looked right into his blue ones.

'Too late…', she begun.

'No! You can… You're the most powerful Jedi ever, you will live!' No, no, that wasn't true. She couldn't just die, surely she couldn't!

Her eyes closed and a tiny serene smile appeared on her lips.

'Obi-Wan…'

'Yes?', he asked eagerly, leaning down a bit to hear her better.

'It's too late for me…'

'No!'

Her gaze was firm and clear.

'Obi-Wan…'

'Yes?...' He had to guard his voice not to let it falter.

'Too late… You _will_ escape…', Fay spoke softly, as her gaze wandered towards his utility belt, when the antidote was hidden, and then back to his eyes. 'You _will _live… and I go to join our brothers and sisters… finally.'

He nodded, not being able to speak. She was… what was she doing?

Fay gathered her strength and raised her hand, resting it on Obi-Wan's chest, where his heart was. Obi-Wan felt warmth coming from her hand. Warmth and strength, and the Force.

'Your… your strength…', began Obi-Wan, but Fay interrupted gently.

'I won't need it anymore.' She looked at his saddened features and smiled warmly. 'Let me go, Obi-Wan… Let me go… and go yourself… Go… and bring them life.'

'I… I know', he said, in a firm voice. He had to do that. He could grieve later, now there were lives to save.

Her face was serene and her eyes – despite the pain – radiant.

'There is no death… Only the Force…'

Obi-Wan managed to return her smile. He wanted her to die in peace.

'May the Force… be with you… Obi-Wan… Now… Go.'

He gently laid her on the ground.

'And with you, Fay', he said his farewell as he leapt up in an incredibly high jump, and ran into safety.

Behind him, the walls were beginning to collapse.

_Tell them please that we remember thought_, Obi-Wan suddenly. _Tell _him_ that I remember…_

_I will._

The collapsing walls buried only silence.

* * *

_Author's note:_

Please forgive possible mistakes ;)

This chapter was a bit difficult for me, as I haven't read "Blast Radius", so my knowledge of what happened on Quetya is based on Wookiepedia only. So I didn't go for writing action and concentrated on capturing Fay's essence.


	12. Word

_**Word**_

Count Dooku looked into young Skywalker's eyes. There was anger, anger unbefitting a Jedi, and it made Dooku understand. That anger – it was death. His death.

He turned his gaze to look at the still form of Obi-Wan Kenobi. The very man he dueled a few times, and each time had an opportunity to kill. His padawan's padawan… He closed his eyes. He was a Sith lord, he was one of those who orchestrated the beginning of the war, his orders had brought thousands of lives to an end… And yet, he couldn't end this one. Because each time he raised his lightsaber to deliver the final blow, he saw Qui-Gon's eyes. Not angry, not reproaching, just full of sorrow.

The memory suddenly became vivid, real.

I am dying, he thought.

_Yes_, came a silent voice.

Dooku's eyes snapped open, in shock. _Qui-Gon?_

But the only answer was the Chancellor's cold voice, coloured with cruel joy.

'Kill him. Kill him now.'

'It's not a way of the Jedi…' But there were only words. The boy's mind was already set.

Skywalker still hesitated, but hatred flashed in his eyes. Dooku looked into them… and then shifted his gaze, noticing a slight movement behind the boy, just a change of texture of the air. His eyes widened.

_Fay?..._

The fair, slender figure was clear and real. And beside her… Oh, Force…

Dooku couldn't bring himself to even think the name. He lowered his gaze.

Suddenly the world was filled with the hiss of the two lightsabers.

_Let go…_ The silent whisper moved something deep within Dooku's heart. Something he tried to bury there forever. Now it turned out he had failed.

'He's a threat to the Republic. To us. Finish him, Anakin. Do it now!' That sealed it.

_Let go…_, repeated a soft woman's voice.

And then the second spirit spoke.

_Let go, Master_.

That single word broke all the walls he had carefully build of the Dark Side over the years, every one of them.

Dooku looked into Skywalker's eyes, opening his thoughts to the boy. _Don't go my way, young one… _He let go. Of fear, of anger, of hatred. He struggled to let go of doubt, and of a sudden wave of remorse. _Don't go my way._

A fair face leaned down towards him, and a warm hand touched his chest over his heart. Bringing peace. He took in a breath.

Lightsabers moved in a blurr of red and blue.

* * *

_Author's note:_

This chapter wasn't in the first draft of the story, I only added it recently. I just had to do it.

Among other things, I definitely _don't_ see Dooku begging for his life as it's shown in the novelization of RotS.


	13. Real

**_Real_**

She was real. No, she did not speak to me through the Force. But they showed me.

In the Valley of the Jedi, they did show me the memories. About her. They said they finally understood who she really was. But they did not tell me. They said it is something you have to understand yourself. They told me their stories – and thus, her story, too. And I know she was real, but not only because others told me about her.

I have seen her. I saw her in the Valley. I was ready to leave, and then there she was, at the far end of the Valley. She was smiling, a beautiful smile of a young woman, but with a wisdom of long centuries. Striking. And I knew she would come for me, when the time is right. This is why no Jedi is afraid of death. Because, at the very end, she is with us. She has always been.

My time is almost over. I can feel it; everyone, who has ever been to the Valley, can. It may be some days more, or, if a miracle will happen, maybe months. It does not matter, because she would be there, at the end.

No one will ever write in this book again. I will leave this in the Old Temple, for someone to find in the future, I do not want to guess how distant. A testimony for the future Jedi, for there always will be Jedi, as there always is the Force.

She was a legend, but she was real. Fay was real. And I, Kyle Katarn, have seen her.

* * *

_Author's note:_

Yes, I omitted Luke. He's OK and I like him, but he's exploited too much in fanfics.


	14. There

**_There_**

He had been heavily wounded, he knew it. But it was worth it. He was no longer afraid of pain or sacrifice, even of laying down his life for the case. That was the Jedi way, and at the core he had always been a Jedi, even in times he tried to retire and always found out he could not. He smiled, a bit bitterly, to himself. Maybe this time, with both his wound and the virus, he would. Ultimately. He wasn't afraid; just curious.

He looked through the window, watching the Coruscant traffic. He felt as if he would laugh any moment. Some things never change, he thought. Like this planet. Really, it must have been the same in the times of the Old Republic.

'Almost.'

He jerked up at the sound of young woman's voice, unknown to him. He sat on the bed… and blinked. He'd swear only a while ago he was alone in the room.

She was standing by the window, her hair golden in the light of the setting sun. He'd heard of Force ghosts before, and wouldn't be surprised at such a sight. But she was… He knew she wasn't there, but she was so real, so real…

'I truly am here', she said, approaching his bed.

'Fay…', he said, stunned. 'How… Why…'

'To tell you there's still much work ahead of you.' She smiled slightly. 'Too early for retiring, Master Katarn.'

'Kyle', he corrected, weakly. 'But how could that be? The healers don't give me half a chance to make it…'

'But you will.'

He looked into her eyes. It was there, he saw that clearly – he would live.

'You came only to tell me that?'

'And to make you see the story you've heard. Isn't that what you wanted?'

He nodded.

'Indeed.'

She leaned over him and put a warm hand on his forehead. Instantly he felt better.

'That is what the healers could not predict', she said gently. 'You will live, Jedi. For some more years, you will live.'

He raised his gaze to look at her face.

'And then?', he asked. 'Will you come for me?'

'I won't come. But I'll be there. Trust me.'

Then he felt he had to ask her, he had to ask her before she'd be gone.

'Were you there for him?'

Her expression never faltered, but there was a slight change about her gaze he couldn't quite name. But it was there.

'Him?', her voice sounded casually.

'You must know…'

'I am always there', she interrupted, before he could mention the name. 'For everyone who wants me there, and for some those who doesn't. But not everyone could feel me.'

There was a brief silence. Kyle wondered if she was there for them all… Yoda, Obi-Wan, Anakin, all the Jedi who died at the rise of the Empire. And before…

'Yes, I was there', she said, as if she'd heard his thoughts. Or maybe she had. 'I was even there for Yan Dooku.'

He still didn't mention one name. Something he heard in the Valley had made him not to.

But she knew what he had been thinking.

'For him too. Throughout all his life.'

He smiled. Why would that made him feel relieved, he had no idea. And yet it did.

'Would you be there for me, Master Fay? Throughout all the remaining days?'

'I'm always there, as the Force is always there.'

'I know.' He knew she was. She had been one with the Force even while being still alive, and she was now. So strong the connection was she could make her figure look and feel real, as if she still had a physical body.

'Don't worry, Jedi, I will be there.'

'Thank you, Master Fay.'

She turned, her silhouette dissolving into the last lights of sunset, but her voice echoed in the room even a while after.

'It's just Fay. '

* * *

_May the Force be with you all  
_

* * *

_Author's note:_

So here came the end of the story. I hope you enjoyed it :)

(PS This 'him' Fay and Kyle are talking about near the end is Qui-Gon.)

There might be another, additional chapter. I've got it written down already, but I'm not sure if I should submit it. So tell me please if you'd like a pairing or not :)


	15. Present

This chapter is optional - it can be or not be included into the whole story. You choose.

Also, there's a pairing there, so if you don't like the idea better do not read this ;)

* * *

**_Present_**

As he made his way down the Senate hall, he felt weariness. Weariness and... worry. He knew the Force itself had guided him to Tatooine, that it was the Force that made their ways cross. And yet there was an anxiety in him he couldn't overthrow. It dawned on him he was worrying about the future. The future of that boy, and if the Council would let Anakin be trained as a Jedi. And the future of Naboo. He'd been there only once, and fighting mainly, but he could feel the planet's serene beauty, its aura gleaming in the Force. What would it be when they're back there? What was the queen planning to do? Had she any plan at all? She didn't want to wait 'til the new Chancellor established his power to quicken any Senate's decision, she wanted to be with her people. But there was a shadow somewhere in that future that he couldn't decipher, a way ending in fog so thick that he couldn't see beyond it.

Back at the Temple, without thinking or analyzing, he went straight to the Room of a Thousand Fountains. Only there, listening to the soothing sound of falling water, he could always find peace. Only there, standing near one of the small waterfalls, with his hands outstretched, feeling cool soft drops brushing his fingers as once the Llyrian rain had done, he could find peace. Only there, standing like that with his eyes closed, he could always clear his mind and feel the Living Force. And sometimes, when he was weary and tired and losing hope, he could touch the warm trace in the Force, the memory of Fay's fair presence, and it soothed his every pain and brought peace to his troubled mind in times of need.

And then, when he was standing there like he had always done before, savouring the feeling of water drops' coolness pouring slowly into him, he became aware that was one of those times he could touch Fay's memory. He hadn't noticed anything until he felt the familiar warmth in the Force, and a lightest touch on his hand. He opened his eyes instantly, but, except for him, the room was empty.

He felt better, but still was far from peace and concentrating on the present, and thus - away from his ways in the Force. He entered his chambers, but his wandering thoughts came back at once at the sight his eyes noted.

In the dying rays of sunset her hair were glowing like the setting sun itself. When she turned to face him, her eyes were more pure light than their usual silver grey. Even her robe catched some colours, so that she seemed to be dressed in sunset from head to foot. He inhaled deeply, startled.

'Fay?', he managed only a short question.

She smiled gently at him.

'I do come when I am needed.'

'But I...', he began, but fell silent. He wanted to say he didn't need her, but he couldn't. He did.

'The Force brought me here, and it can't be wrong, it never is', she explained simply.

He shook his head.

'You cannot help me, Fay. It's the future which's so troubling...'

She raised her eyes to look into his face.

'Yes, I do know. And your way is the Living Force, keeping your mind on the present, for the future will always sooner or later reveal and clear itself.'

He looked back and gave her a short bow.

'You know it all well enough.' _You know. It was you who taught me the ways of the Living Force._

'Then we should just turn your mind back to the present.' From her lips, it sounded as if it was nothing very difficult.

'How?'

She did not answer. She just took a step towards him, and then another, and one little step more... And suddenly he remembered how had she taken care of his wound back then on Llyria, and how careful her fingers had been, and how had she smiled inwardly when he at last had got the grip of the Living Force, and how had she been there for him in the time he needed her most after the loss of Tahl. But that... that was impossible...

'No attachment, and no possesion, and no bounds but those of the Force', she spoke, her voice silent, but clear. 'But you now understand the Force has to go first. And I have learnt my lesson long ago.'

'And what with the remaining two?'

'It is the Code. It's not the Force. How could there be no posession, when almost every Jedi treasures his lightsaber so much? Isn't it a contradiction? And how could there be no attachment, when to almost every master a padawan is as dear as a child?'

'You do have neither a lightsaber nor a padawan', he retorted.

'I can live without the first, and it's not my way to go for the second. My way is to heal, not to teach.'

He smiled.

'What you are giving me now are certainly teachings.'

'Just sharing experience. I've seen much, and I know the Council is not the Force.'

'Then how do you know you go the way of the Force?'

'Because after all those years I can still help, heal, save lives. It's enough for me.' A half-smile appeared on her lips.

In his thought, he agreed she was right. He knew it, he felt it. She was one with the Living Force, one with the Force while being still alive, her presence both quiet and stunning. There could be no doubt, there was none. She was walking the very way of the Force, always, however startling her doings.

'I wish I could go that way', he confessed.

She shook her head gently.

'You way is elsewhere, Qui-Gon... In time, you'll learn.'

Silence fell between them. But it wasn't uncomfortable, only a little bit hesitant - at least, his silence was.

And then she took one final step towards him, raised her hand and touched his cheek, cupping it with her palm, her hand so light it almost wasn't there at all. He closed his eyes and leaned into her delicate touch, only half-consciously, feeling that was the right place for him to be at the time, being absolutely sure about that one single thing. And then, before he opened his eyes, her lips touched his in a long kiss, warm and tender. His arm placed itself around her on its own accord, as if it had always been its place, while his other arm raised up so that his palm could touch her cheek. When their lips parted he still held her.

There was a question blazing in his eyes.

_You are a Jedi... you are... Why?_

She put her hands on his shoulders and gently drew him closer.

_It's not about living a life without love. It's about putting the Force before the private._

Agreement shone in his eyes. He understood that now. He had learnt to understand some years ago.

She smiled a little smile.

_And... Setting your mind on the present, remember?_

He wanted to ask again, but when she kissed him for the second time here was no more place for doubts. No doubts, no hesitation. Only the Force, warm, comforting, in her, around her, the Force telling him it was by no means a wrong way, knowing everything and assuring matters will settle themselves when the time is right. There was peace.

He held her close, returning her kisses. Long, patient, warm and soft, as if they had all the time in the universe. And maybe, for that very evening, they did.

Her hands were light and gentle as she slowly began undoing his tunic, stopping for a fracture of a second here and there, as if she could feel his scars even through his robes. All the time, they were kissing.

And then there was a brightness almost blinding, shimmering like water with different shades of light, reassuring and strong. And all his senses and thoughts were back on the present, and he knew they would stay like that as long as he needed them so, for all days yet to come.

'Sleep', she whispered with a tender undertone in her voice.

'You know I won't sleep', he said, his soft gaze locked on her face. Admiring, with - he knew it showed – an unsure hint of a feeling he did not dare to name. The very feeling the Code made so much confusion about.

Her lips curved into a tiny smile as she touched his temple with her fingertips.

'Sometimes you seem to forget I've trained in the ways of the Force for so much longer than you', she said. And then, as he was hopelessly fighting the incoming sleep, knowing he's not able to overcome her Force, he heard a silent goodbye. 'May the Force be with you, Qui-Gon, in all the empty places you'll have to walk.' He wasn't sure, drifting into sleep already, but it seemed a soft kiss followed the words.

* * *

_Author's note:_

I know it's a bit weird. But they would get on together so perfectly... *sighs* ;)_  
_


End file.
